


Trees of Green

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Retirement, Whump, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson can't look away. Written for JWP #24.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trees of Green

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Retirement-era, staying relatively true to ACD's implied events of retirement. And absolutely no beta.This was written in a huge rush. You have been warned.
> 
> JWP #24: On the Track, which is a [picture prompt](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1161923.html).

Exhaustion pulled at my limbs and eyelids, but I could not tear my eyes away from the scenery outside the compartment window.  
  
So much life. So much _green_.  
  
For so long, my life had been surrounded by other colors: brown, grey, black, dingy white, and red, always and uppermost. So much red: the varying shades of blood, from the light cardinal of minor cuts to the darker crimson of deep injuries; the near-pink of discharge; the scarlet of infected flesh; the dull gleam of military trim and ribbon. There had been green, too, but always the drab olive of uniforms, never this living curtain of leaf and stem.  
  
I sent a wire as soon as I could, fresh from the casualty ship.  
  
An answer awaited me the next morning, typically terse:  
  
COME AT ONCE STOP SH FINAL STOP  
  
I had not slept since my arrival. Too many things kept me awake: injury, memory, fear. I could not sleep now, my eyes drinking in the verdure.  
  
But I knew there would be rest for me at the end of my journey. Rest, and life, and comfort, and companionship.  
  
Though it had never been my residence, I knew I was going home.


End file.
